On the Edge of Perfection
by discworld
Summary: This work is composed of a series of oneshots that retell various moments in the Ghost Bird series from the perspective of Mr.Blackbourne.
1. Introductions

**Authors note: Mr. Blackbourne is still the most mysterious character in the group, and we never really get a glimpse of his thoughts and feelings and there are not a lot of fan fics that are written from his POV. This is totally understandable is really intimidating to write as.**

 **This scene takes place in Introductions and is where meets Sang for the first time. All of the dialogue is lifted directly from the book.**

 **I hope you enjoy it and I would love to get feedback on how well you think I was able to capture personality.**

I was sitting at my desk going over the class schedules for my boys when I hear a gentle rap on the door. The fact that they then proceeded to open the door without waiting for a response tells me it has to be Sean.

" Dr. Green," I know I sound a little terse but after dealing with Mr. Hendricks my patience was wearing thin. "You don't have to knock. This is your office too now."

Sean apologizes with a smile that clearly tells me he isn't remotely sorry as he takes his seat at his desk.

"Old habit, when I see a shut door. Never want to surprise anyone. Besides the offices are so small if anyone were standing behind the door I'd hit them."

It is then that I realize he is not alone. A petite young woman is standing by the door. She is an open book, I can easily read the nervousness in every line of her body. Her skin is pale, she has blonde hair and large green eyes but what I find most intriguing is what she was wearing.

Her outfit, while far from new is still a step up from the jeans and T-shirts that I see most of the students at this school wear.

I frown attempting to ascertain why Sean would have brought her here. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, this is Miss Sang Sorenson." Sean vaguely gestures at the girl in question, "Miss Sang, this is Mr. Blackbourne."

The brief flicker of recognition across the girls face when she hears my name puzzles me. She ducks her head down and murmurs a greeting, the submissiveness of this actions causes my frown to deepen slightly.

"That's wonderful." I'm feeling exasperated with Sean's evasive answer, "Now why are you here?"

"I am assisting her with getting registered." Sean reaches for the paper Miss Sorenson holds clenched in her hands. "Shall I help you?"

I shoot Sean a warning look which he ignores. He knows Mr. Hendricks is opposed to us being here. We have been given the freedom to have full control of our student's schedules but doing so with any of the other students is seriously overstepping our authority.

"She should be outside with the other students," I turn my attention to Miss Sorenson, "Couldn't you wait in line?"

Miss Sorenson is trembling, too nervous to form a complete sentence. I find myself wondering why a girl who is so shy and appears to dislike attention would wear an outfit guaranteed to make her stand out from the other students.

"She's perfectly capable of doing so," Sean is already warming up his computer as he speaks and I can tell there will be no reasoning with him. "But she had a run in with . I didn't want a good student to be scared away because of him."

I make a noncommittal sound and fix Sean with a look meant to convey the fact that I expect a full account of what occurred later.

"I hope I am not disturbing you," her voice is soft and she keeps her eyes trained on the floor.

It was not my intention to terrify her however this is a delicate operation and we don't have time for unnecessary complications. I turn back to my work in resignation but continue to listen in on their conversation.

"What have we here? Now I can't understand this. Why are all these classes crossed out?"

"Well, when I first filled it out I picked classes I didn't know were reserved for upperclassmen. And the second set were crossed out because the counselor said I couldn't have more than two AP classes."

"How awful. Does she assume you couldn't do it?"

"She just kept saying I wasn't allowed."

"Why have these classes if you aren't going to let students in them."

While I completely agree with this sentiment I feel that at this school we are going to have to pick our battles.

"What were your original choices?"

I hear the rustle of paper, "I couldn't take Japanese so I switched to this."

"Did you write this?" There is a pause. "Who did?"

"Kota. A friend of mine."

My head shot up and I stared intently at the two of them. This could explain the flicker of recognition when she heard my name.

"Do you know Kota Lee?"

She appears uncertain, "Dark brown hair? Glasses?"

Interesting, she knows him but not well enough to know his last name. This suggests they have only met recently.

I exchange a look with Sean and we silently agree to ask the boys about this later.

I am loath to draw conclusions without first hearing all the facts but it appears that the boys are drawing her into their group but have decided not to inform Sean or me.

Sean writes something on the registration slip and hands it back to her, "Do you think you could handle this?"

Miss Sorenson takes a moment to look over the paper her mouth open a look of shock on her face.

With a great deal of effort I refrain from sighing. Heaven only knows what Sean is planning.

"How do I bypass the restriction? And I'm not allowed in Japanese for at least another year."

I purse my lips at Sean's obvious attempt to get her into his class.

"But is that what you want?"

"I want to try." While her words are meek and subdued this is the most confident she has sounded since she came into the office.

I scowl at Sean annoyed that he appears to be willing to jeopardize this entire operation for one student.

"Why are you causing trouble? You don't know anything about this girl."

"I have a good feeling." He says this lightly but firmly as if he actually answered my question and considers the matter settled. He takes the registration slip back and signs it with a flourish, "Besides who is going to tell me no?"

Honestly Sean can act like such a child at times. I narrow my eyes and my scowl deepens but Sean ignores me. He has become immune to my glowering looks. He simply begins inputting the new schedule in his computer.

I am just about to turn back to my paperwork when I notice Miss Sorenson tapping her foot in time with the violin melody that has just begun.

This intrigues me and I turn to her, "Do you know this song?"

Although she appears surprised to be asked she answers promptly, "It's the song about the swallow, isn't it?"

My eyebrow are raised in surprise and I nod.

"But it's the version by Micarelli, isn't it?"

My surprise is quickly turning to admiration and I ask "How do you know it's her?"

Miss Sorenson appears to think for a moment before answering, "Well she's got this style. She plays soft. It's hard to explain but it's different than other violinists. I really like it."

This is a pleasant surprise and I find myself intrigued by her.

"Do you like the violin?"

"I do. I like the piano too. I think if I had to pick just one to learn though the violin would be my first choice."

I stare intently into her eyes. I see intelligence and a thirst for knowledge as well as a great deal of curiosity. However I also see sorrow. There is something haunted about her and knowing my boys I can guess what it is that is haunting her.

In that moment I finally see what Sean meant because I also have a feeling about her. I try to tell myself I am only doing this to keep and eye on her but I know there is more to it that that.

"Would you kindly hand over Miss Sorenson's registration paper, Dr. Green ?"

I hope I'm not making a huge mistake.


	2. Violin Lessons: Part One

**Authors Note: This scene is from book 2 of the Ghost Bird series written by C.L. Stone. As with the previous chapter, the dialogue is lifted directly from the book.**

 **It is Sang's first violin lesson with Mr. Blackbourne told from Mr. Blackbourne's POV. I was initially planning on combining the first two lessons into one chapter but I felt the chapter was getting a little long and I had a lot of trouble trying to figure out what Owen is thinking in this portion of the story so I opted to post what I have which is the entire first lesson.**

 **I would appreciate any feedback as to how you think I did.**

 **P.S. I have cross-posted this on Wattpad under the username runswithcats.**

I was sitting at the school's clunky upright piano playing a jazz piece I remembered hearing once although I could no longer recall its name as I waited for the arrival of Miss Sorenson. While I usually preferred to play the violin, I have found the piano to be more conducive to thoughtful contemplation.

I find Miss Sorenson to be a rather vexing puzzle. I had, of course, questioned my boys about her but they were unwilling to provide anything more than the most basic information about her. This made Miss Sorenson an unknown variable and there is simply too much at stake to allow for such a thing.

I had requested that the Academy do a background check on her for me but until I receive the results from that I planned on finding out what I could from the girl herself.

I heard the door open and then swing shut as well as a few tentative footsteps. I continued to play as though unaware of her presence. I was waiting for her to speak up but when it became clear to me that that wasn't about to happen any time soon, I opted to stop playing and turn to face her.

I found myself frowning slightly at the sight of her standing there stiffly her bag still held tightly in her hand.

I wait a moment longer before breaking the silence, "Miss Sorenson."

She returned my greeting and had just set her bag down when the bell for class rang. I have never met anyone quite like this young woman in front of me. Her face is like an open book and I could easily read the confusion and worry on her face.

I see her swallow nervously before she finally asked, "Where is everyone else?'

It is not surprising that she wouldn't expect her classes with me to be one on one but I opt to feign puzzlement in the hopes of getting a better read on her personality.

"Else?" I ask coolly.

"The other students," she clarifies.

I try to keep my tone as level as possible when I answer her, "There aren't any others. I can't teach a classroom to play. Just one."

I watch her face carefully wondering if she will question me any further. Her eyes are wide in shock and her face is flushed. It isn't until her finger finds its way between her lips that I take pity on her and decide to move on with the lesson. As much as I want to figure out who she is and what it is about her that has drawn my boys I know I need to be patient. I can see that if I push her too hard, I will simply scare her off.

"You didn't bring a violin." I had deliberately not told her to bring an instrument because I was curious as to what she would do. I will admit to being slightly disappointed that she didn't take the initiative to bring one. I can think of two reasons this might be the case. She could lack the drive or motivation to learn, although based on my first impression of her that doesn't seem likely or her home life is less than ideal.

She makes no excuses but instead apologizes. I silently remind myself not to push and get my own violin out for her. "Come. Take this."

She appears transfixed by the sight of the instrument and she shyly approaches. I almost smile at the way she is holding her hands behind her back as though she has to physically restrain herself from reaching out and touching it.

"I don't want to break it."

"You won't break it unless you're careless." I try to inject as much confidence in my words as I can in the hopes of helping her through her own uncertainty.

She, at last, takes the instrument, cradling it in slightly trembling hands. I find myself transfixed at the sight of her hands reverently, almost lovingly stroking the smooth surface of the instrument. Before my thoughts have the opportunity to drift in entirely unwelcome direction, for example how it might feel to have her fingers lovingly stroke…no, I cut that thought off not willing to finish it and force my gaze to settle on her face.

I hold out the bow for her "We are here to play, not to look at it." My tone is slightly sharper than I had intended but she simply nods demurely before bringing the violin up to her neck. She then takes the bow from me holding it loosely in her hand and stands nervously at attention.

I keep my touch light and professional as I firmly but gently correct her posture and the position of the violin. Once I am satisfied, I instruct her, "Do you see the strings? Do you see how I've positioned it? This is how it should look every time you pick up your violin. You need to get used to this now. Keeping good habits from the beginning will make this more comfortable for you."

I feel a small amount of perverse satisfaction when I see her tremble slightly as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. I am suddenly and acutely aware of how close we are standing, close enough for Miss Sorenson to be able to feel my breath on her skin as I speak.

When she raises the bow to the string, I use that as an excuse to distance myself from her. I feel my spine straighten like I am trying to physically remind myself to behave professionally and I snatch the bow from her hands before she has the opportunity to play, "Not yet."

"No?" Miss Sorenson appears surprised at this and I am reminded of my own first violin lesson. My mother signed me up for lessons, she loved the sound of the violin although I believe that was only part of her reason for signing me up. I think the other reason was that she wanted to get me out of the house and away from my father whenever possible.

My first teacher was Mrs. Heinrich, who started offering lessons from her home after the death of her husband. She was a strict woman who rarely smiled but she was passionate about the violin. The first time I brought the bow up and attempted to play she rapped me across the knuckles with a pencil. We spent the first two lessons focused on my posture and the way I held the violin before she was at last satisfied enough to let me attempt to play.

While I don't intend on making Miss Sorenson spend the next two lessons learning how to properly hold a violin, I do think Mrs. Heinrich had the right idea. Posture and the position a violin is held will serve as the base that everything else I teach her will be built off of and I want her to feel comfortable with that before we move on.

Rather than explain I simply answer "No," and move the violin out of position. "Now put it back where I placed it."

She obeys my instruction without question and all I have to do is remind her to check her strings for her to correct the way she has the violin positioned.

"Put your chin against the rest." I give her a moment to obey and get comfortable with the position before giving my next instruction, one that is designed to push her outside of her comfort zone. "Let go of the violin."

The look of shock on her face is almost comical but I am careful to ensure my face remains impassive.

"I'll drop it." Her voice quavers slightly.

I increase the volume of my voice a notch an add an extra layer of command to it. "If you are holding the violin right between your chin and shoulder you won't drop it. Let go of the violin."

My purpose behind this is twofold. By asking her to do something she is clearly uncomfortable with I can get a better read on her personality. I am also hoping to use this as a trust-building exercise. If her home life is as bad as I suspect it to be, she is going to need help. I can't help her if I don't know what's wrong however there is no way she will tell me what's wrong unless she learns to trust me.

She continues to hesitate and although I can see she is anxious her voice is steady, "I don't think I should."

While I am impressed with her for speaking up when given an order that she feels uncomfortable with I am filled with a strong, dare I say irrational need for her to trust me and in the end, it is that feeling that drives me to keep pushing her.

I quickly snatch her hand away from the violin. She is jarred forward and the violin very nearly slides out from under her chin but she is able to push her chin down against the rest. In the end, her shoulders are scrunched up and the violin is dangling slightly precariously from its position.

I find myself frowning slightly at my own behavior and release her hand. I never act this rashly and I am afraid my actions may have done more harm than good.

"Put the violin back in position."

Her fingers shake but she obeys and I almost sigh with relief at the sight of that. Maybe I didn't screw up quite as badly as I initially feared after all she isn't flat out refusing to obey me.

"Now let go, this time without scrunching your neck."

"I almost lost it last time."

"Now." My voice echoes through the room and I realize I have used the same tone of voices I use when bringing my boys to order.

She squeezes her eyes shut but nevertheless does what I asked of her. I can see her hand trembling as she moves is away from the neck of the instrument but I can see her making a conscious effort not to scrunch up her shoulders.

Even though the violin rocks forward slightly it remains balanced and I am more than pleased both with the results and with the trust she was able to show me by following my command.

"Good," I tell her making sure to use a much softer gentler tone of voice. Her whole body is trembling and I feel slightly guilty for pushing her so hard. A small part of me is afraid I went too far today however my gut is telling me she is stronger than she appears, she is probably stronger than she herself realizes. For now, I will back off, calm her down and possibly leave her with something to think on.

I wait for her to open her eyes before I move until I am once again standing behind her.

"You did well Miss Sorenson. It's important for a young lady to speak up and ask questions, or even resist an order when a situation seems dangerous."

I move around until I am standing in front of her, I gently remove the violin from under her chin and carefully set it aside. She appears puzzled and refuses to meet my gaze. Moving slowly and making sure my touch remains gently I place my hand under her chin lifting her head until her bright green eyes are staring into mine.

"I also need you to trust me. Beyond doubt. Beyond probably what you've ever been comfortable with in your life. If you'll allow me the chance….."

I trail off when I see the pink hue of her cheeks and I realize that I said more than I intended to. As a last-ditch attempt at maintaining my professional exterior, I release her chin and take a step back.

"I expect you to have your own instrument by tomorrow."

"I…." her voice is shaky and I interrupt her before she has a chance to continue. "Tomorrow. Don't come to class unless you have one."

As soon as I have finished speaking the bell rings and Miss Sorenson has collected her bag and is gone out the door before I can blink and I am left wondering if I have managed to scare her off. I hope not.


	3. Violin Lessons: Part Two

**Authors Note: This is a continuation of the last chapter and is Sang's second violin lesson with Mr. Blackbourne. If anyone is curious about the song Mr. Blackbourne plays for Sang in this chapter just do a google search for S** **pring Breeze Takako Nishizaki.**

 **I look forward to finding out what everyone thinks, there were a number of places in this chapter where I struggled to figure out what Mr. Blackbourne was thinking and the reason behind his actions so feel free to let me know if you feel like any of it feels OOC.**

I stand beside the school's piano, all my attention focused on the door to the classroom as I await Miss Sorensen's arrival. Tucked away behind the piano is a black violin case. A case that has been acting as a weight on my mind since Mr. Morgan dropped it off in my office early this morning.

I questioned Mr. Morgan about it but he refused to either confirm or deny whether Miss Sorenson asked him to purchase her a violin or not. His entire person seemed to radiate shame and discomfort and he took advantage of Sean's arrival at our office to escape further questioning.

I recognize the violin he bought her as a Fiddlerman. I am familiar with the workshop which is known for the quality of their instruments and has gained a reputation as being a good violin for beginners. However, I am aware they are not very cheap and I would estimate Mr. Morgan spent between $500 and $600. While that amount is very small for Mr. Morgan I doubt Miss Sorenson has that kind of money lying around.

Neither of my interactions with Miss Sorenson have led me to believe she is the type of person to manipulate another for her own gain but as the group's leader, I can't simply dismiss the possibility until I have more concrete evidence.

All his life Mr. Morgan has been surrounded by people who used him, whether it be his own parents using him for the status his talents provide them or those who befriended him because of his fame or money.

Victor has a big heart but I know with every experience of someone using him he becomes a little more jaded and I want to protect him from that as much as possible.

For this reason, I have tucked the new violin out of sight. I am curious as to how Miss Sorenson will react when she gets here and whether she is expecting the violin to be here.

I hear the creek of the door as it begins to open and look up in time to see Miss Sorenson enter. She appears to be trying to look as small and unassuming as possible and only takes a few steps into the classroom before she stops and stands rigidly with her bag clutched in front of her like a shield.

The door clicks softly shut behind her and I finally choose to speak up.

"Miss Sorenson."

"Mr. Blackbourne." Her voice sounds so quiet and there is an almost broken quality to it that fills me with the need to hold her in my arms and protect her from all the dangers of the world.

Without meaning to I close the distance between the two of us. Her book bag stops me mere feet from her and I gently take her bag from her and set it aside.

"Are you not coming in?" I am relieved that my voice has managed to remain as professional as ever.

"I…." she takes a deep breath as though trying to gather her nerve. Her cheeks are growing pink and she is shaking her body tense. "I'm sorry. I just came to tell you," she pauses again licking her lips nervously, "I can't take your class."

I doubt she has suddenly lost the desire to learn to play the violin in the past 24 hours so there must be another reason.

I gently trace along her chin with a finger, lifting her face until her gaze meet mine.

"Didn't you tell me a week ago that this was what you wanted?"

"Yes." I see her press a shaking hand to her chest from the corner of my eye and it takes all my willpower not to follow her hand with my eyes.

"Are you suggesting you don't want to study with me now?" My voice is soft but I keep my gaze sharp as I silently search for answers in her eyes.

"My mother won't allow me to play. I won't be able to get a violin."

Any remaining doubts I had over Victor's purchase disperse at this and I almost sigh with relief.

"I know you said not to come to your class without one but I didn't want to leave without thanking you first for at least giving me a chance."

My respect for the girl in front of me grows as I am offered a glimpse of her inner strength. She took my words yesterday to heart and was plainly terrified to face me without a violin.

She could have taken the easy way out and gone to the office and had them switch her to a study hall but instead, she faced her fears head-on because she felt it was the right thing to do.

A better man than I would have chosen that moment to tell her about the violin. I purse my lips feeling slightly disgusted with myself for what I am about to do and release her chin.

I am using her feelings of guilt to find out more about her home life because I know she will probably feel as though she owes me an explanation.

"Tell me what your mother said to you."

"She….she wanted me to drop the lessons. She said I had no business in a music class."

As I recall from her school records she has an older sister who plays the flute. I study her expression, she is not lying about what her mother said but I believe there to be more that she is not telling me.

"Isn't your elder sister in the school band?"

She nods.

I make a noncommittal sound and bring my hand to my chin as I decide whether or not to push for more information. It's probably better if I don't I think and turn to fetch the violin from its resting place behind the piano.

I hear the rustle of fabric as she moves and I take an educated guess as to what she is about to do.

"Where are you going?" I turn back to face her again and see that I was correct. She is now facing the door her eyes trained on the doorknob like it was the most fascinating thing on the planet.

"I was going to the main office to…."

"Class isn't over yet." After a moment's consideration, I decided to stop beating around the bush. "The boys offered to buy you an instrument, didn't they?"

Miss Sorenson whirled around to face me a stunned look on her face. "How did you know?"

"But you refused?" I ask her though I am certain I already know the answer.

Her finger found its way up to her lower lip, a nervous habit of hers that, if I'm being honest with myself, I find a bit distracting.

"They wanted to buy one for me. I told them not to. I couldn't ask them to do something for me when I couldn't be sure I could ever pay them back. They've done so much for me already."

Her gaze is questioning and I am momentarily filled with the desire to answer all of her unspoken questions. Instead, I force myself to turn away from her and pull out the violin case, "Should I give this back to them?"

I watch her intently and she appears stupefied by the sight of the violin. I bring the case over to her laying it down carefully in front of her. Knowing that if I wait for her to make the first move we will probably be standing like this for the rest of the class period, I go ahead and open the lid.

I see her hand twitch ever so slightly and I can easily see her desire to reach out and touch the beautiful instrument before her.

"Where did you…" her voice is slightly breathy.

"Victor brought it to me this morning."

Her face looks flushed and her eyes appear watery as though she is holding back tears.

"You don't want it?" I keep my voice soft as though she were a wild animal who would bolt at any sudden movement or loud noise.

She remains silent but her body appears to be answering for her as she extends a shaking hand until it is hovering over the polished wood of the violin. I can see a panoply of different emotions in her expression but the most prominent are guilt and shame.

I know the conversation I am about to have will be important and I suspect it will mark a change in my relationship with Sang. I can only hope the change will be for the better. I worry that I may say the wrong thing and drive a wedge not just between her and I but between her and my boys.

"Miss Sorenson, I've known Kota and the others since they were ten years old. While it is true that they normally attend the Academy And they are nice people in general they don't normally allow outsiders into their circle. Quite frankly, I'm not exactly sure how you manage to get involved with them so quickly. From what little Kota has shared about you to them, and with great reluctance on his part," I feel irritation bubble up inside of me at this but I shove it aside and continue, " you've only known each other for a couple of weeks."

A blush appears on her face and her expression is a mixture of happiness and confusion. " I just bumped into him one day."

I suspect there's a lot more to the story than that but decided not to pry at the moment instead saying, "and yet here they are buying you a violin."

"I told him not to."

"And yet they did it anyway."

"Yes."

"Do you understand what that means?"

Miss Sorenson simply shakes her head seemingly at a loss for words.

"I'll show you." I close the lid and tuck the case under one arm before I hold my other arm out for her to take, "Come with me."

I can feel her fingers tremble as they touch the crook of my arm. I don't have anything in mind to show her however I want her to relax a little before we continue the conversation.

I will be having this conversation while standing near the middle the classroom gives it a more confrontational feel. Which is why I guide her over by the piano and motion for her to take a seat.

I think back to the first time I met her and how she was able to relax, even if it was just a marginal amount, when listening to Micarelli and I realize exactly what I am going to show her.

I remain standing as I once more remove the violin from, the case. I lift the instrument to my chin and gently lay the bow across the strings. After a moment's thought, I begin to play.

I settle on a Chinese melody, Spring Breeze. The notes are in them and the tempo is gentle. This song both soothes and rejuvenates me.

As I play I lose myself a little to the melody. My eye close and I recall what it is like at the end of winter with spring just around the corner. The way the grass seems so much greener and how the daffodils start to pop up as tiny green shoots barely an inch above the soil.

As the song finishes, I draw my mind back to the present. The reverberation of the notes is now replaced with silence. I believe there is nothing quite as loud as the silence you get immediately following a beautiful song played well.

Deciding to break the silence I say, "It's an exceptional violin." I set the bow aside and once more admire the craftsmanship of the instrument.

"You play beautifully." I shift my attention from the violin to her face. Her voice is soft but this is the most at ease she has seemed since she first arrived in the classroom.

I lay the violin down to rest in its case before walking over to where Miss Sorenson is seated. I bend down slightly until my face is level with hers.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, Miss Sorenson, and I want you to answer me as honesty as you can. And believe me, I can tell if you lie. Do you like the boys? I mean as friends?"

She appears slights puzzled about the question but nods and I say to her exactly what I would say to one of my boys in this situation.

"You should speak when you're answering my questions."

" Yes. I want to be friends with them." She speaks clearly and confidently.

"And friends help each other."

It's not meant as a question but after a moment's thought, Miss Sorenson answers in the affirmative.

"The boys have an unusual lifestyle ever since they joined the Academy. Loyalty is a big part of our curriculum. Once you're part of their team, anything you need the Academy will provide it. It's the way we work. We don't have time to waste worrying about self-inflicted pride."

Miss Sorenson appears entranced to hear me talk about the Academy. "I thought I wasn't supposed to know about the school."

She certainly is sharp I think with a slight amount of frustration, not directed at Miss Sorenson but at my lack of knowledge. The boys have been vague about what they have told Sang in regards to the Academy.

I stand and begin to pace in front of the piano.

"Our work requires strict secrecy. We're exposing ourselves as it is being in this school. The school board and the and the principal only know we're a private school. There is a lot they don't know about it. We try to keep our students anonymous. I hope you'll keep our secret."

After hearing no reply I halt my pacing and turn to face Miss Sorenson. She has a contemplative look on her face as she mentally works through the implications of what I have just told her.

At last, she replies, "I've never told anyone."

I believe her but saying I've never told anyone is not the same thing as I will never tell anyone. I need to impress upon her the importance of secrecy.

"You have to understand, you can never talk about this. Not with family. Not with your friends. There's more at stake here than this school. Kota's taken a big risk even mentioning it to you at all. I don't believe this is the best for the team, but I trust his judgment. However, I need your absolute word that you'll never mention anything you hear us say to anyone else. It doesn't matter how trivial you assume it to be. Lips closed."

I can read the message in her eyes as clearly as I could if she said it out loud, she has no one to tell.

She looked me directly in the eyes, "I'll never say a word. Ever. If you want me to swear it to something, I will."

I study her closely looking for signs of deceit and find myself relaxing slightly when I find none. I begin pacing again as I think of the best way to explain Victor's gift to her.

This is a conversation I have had seven times before, although all the conversations were different.

"As I was saying, the Academy taught them to take care of one another."

She pauses for a moment to consider this, "But I'm not in the Academy."

"You are one of them now, though, or they consider you to be. That instinct to simply do what the other needs has been worked into them so fluidly. You'll have to forgive this flaw. They don't really think about what it means to someone like you, who may feel indebted to them. Trust me when I say you won't ever have to. They'll never ask. It'll happen again. If you want to be friends with them, you'll have to let them do it. I don't think they'd understand if you rejected anything they give you. They possibly wouldn't allow it."

Looking slightly overwhelmed Miss Sorenson begins to speak but I quickly cut her off, there is one more thing I need to add.

"I hope you won't take advantage of their kindness."

With a soft sigh, she answers, "I've been trying not to."

To my complete and utter amazement, I actually feel myself smile a little. "If I had thought otherwise, I wouldn't have allowed this."

Just as I am about to suggest she try holding her new violin I hear the door to the music room swing open.

I spin around in time to see Mr. Hendricks storm in with his hands clenched tightly at his side.

"Mr. Blackbourne," I resist the sudden urge to grind my teeth in irritation, "I've been trying to get a hold of you."

I almost scoff at this, up until my lesson with Miss Sorenson I had been in my office all morning. I would hardly say I've been hard to get a hold of.

"I'm fairly busy, I have a student."

I see Mr. Hendricks' beast eyes scan the room until at last they land on Miss Sorenson.

"Hello again, Miss Sorenson."

I instinctively dislike the familiarity he seems to have with her and wonder what her dealings with him have been.

"I needed to talk to you about why the boys aren't wearing uniforms."

I frown, this again, I explained things very clearly in my email.

"I emailed you that they don't have any. The Academy isn't…."

"You don't understand," he rudely interrupts speaking in a tone of voice he probably thinks is menacing, "the school board is after me to make sure the boys become the 'ideal' students for this school. If they're going to set the standard, they have to be the standard. I've already talked to the board and they agree. We have to show these kids what will be happening in the next couple of years. They can either stick with it or get out."

I take a calming breath and once again attempt to reason with the vile, repugnant….man.

"You'll isolate my students, Mr. Hendricks. There will be a lot more trouble if you insist on this."

"Isn't it your job to handle that? Didn't we hire you to…."

I take a small amount of satisfaction in being the one to cut him off this time around, "I think we should discuss this somewhere else."

"Why?" He asks, "She's one of yours, isn't she?"

Not liking the way he is looking at her I shift to form a wall blocking Miss Sorenson from view.

"I said just seven students. If you thought you could wiggle one past me…."

"I'll see what I can do about the required uniforms." I cut in. I know the smart move, the logical move, would be to clear up Mr. Hendricks' mistaken assumption about Miss Sorenson. Instead, I neither confirm nor deny it, a small part of me hoping that if he thinks she is a part of the Academy he will leave her alone. "But I'm warning you. By separating my students like this, it makes them walking targets. They won't be responsible for what happens. They won't be the example you expect if they stand out."

Mr. Hendricks appears smugly satisfied saying, "I want to see uniforms on those kids by Friday. We've got the board members coming by to see this for themselves."

He turns towards Miss Sorenson with a dark expression, "Have a nice day, Miss Sorenson."

I watch as Mr. Hendricks turns and leaves the room. I wait a couple of minutes after the door clicks shut before I speak.

"Miss Sorenson, I trust you can keep what you've heard to yourself?"

"Yes," she responds in a soft voice.

"Good." I at last turn away from the door and turn to face her, "If he talks to you again, direct all questions to me. Just to me, not the others. Understand?"

She nods then appears to remember what I told her about wanting verbal answers to my questions and adds, "I will."

After a moment I nod my approval, then in a voice softer than a whisper I say, "Let's hope Kota knows what he's doing with you." And in my head I think, let's hope I know what I'm doing with you.

 **Authors Note: Hi, it's me again. I haven't decided what scene I want to tackle next. I know for a fact that I want to write Mr. Blackbourne's reaction to the boys all deliberately getting detention for Sang as well as the decision-making process between Sean and Mr. Blackbourne when they decide to have the boys distance themselves from Sang at school.**

 **What I haven't made up my mind about is whether or not to write Mr. Blackbourne's reaction to the fight with Gabe and how he felt about Sang stepping in to try and protect him. I would love to hear what you guys think. Would anyone be interested in reading that? I'm worried it might feel redundant because I am without question writing about Friday Fall.**


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